


Another Fine Mess

by whumpsie_daisy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Day 20, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Lost - Freeform, Stitches, Whump, Whumptober 2020, field medicine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27212854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whumpsie_daisy/pseuds/whumpsie_daisy
Summary: When a mission goes wrong, Anakin and Obi-Wan find themselves lost in the jungle. With Obi-Wan injured and help nowhere to be found, it’s up to Anakin to patch up his master.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 133
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Chapter 1

“Well, this is another fine-”

“Don’t even say it,” Anakin huffed. He had an arm hooked around Obi-Wan’s waist, half supporting, half dragging the Jedi master along. If he was honest, it really was a fine mess they were in, but he refused to give Obi-Wan the satisfaction of admitting it. Their operation had taken them and the 501st to a dense jungle planet that, quite frankly, Anakin couldn’t even remember the name of right now. There had been complications, of course… all of which had led to the two Jedi getting separated from their company.

Obi-Wan hissed in a breath as Anakin hoisted him upright once more. Risking a glance at him, Anakin couldn’t help but notice how much paler he was looking. The sticky, dark bloom beneath his armour and scratches on his face did nothing to help the look.

“Let’s find somewhere to stop so I can take a look at that shoulder,” Anakin suggested, turning his attention to the thick jungle around them. There had to be somewhere on this force-forsaken planet that wasn’t crawling with dangerous creatures or clankers, surely.

“No, there’s no time. We have to make that evac or risk the safety of all of your men.” Obi-Wan winced as a stumble jarred his shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

“Of course you will, but I still think we should have a look at it. Kix will have my head if I let you saunter back on looking like that.”

For a moment, the older Jedi looked like he was about to argue, before a particularly painful looking shudder rippled through him. His knees all but gave out from under him. If it hadn’t been for Anakin’s arm around his waist he would have crumpled like a dropped cloak. As it was, he managed to catch him just in time to slow his descent and steer him towards a moss-covered log. “Right, that’s as good a sign as any. Let me look at it.” Anakin wasted no time in fiddling with the clasps on Obi-Wan’s pauldron. He carefully eased it away, trying not to notice as his master paled further at the movement.

  
Beneath, the material of his robes were stained a dark red and were obviously sticking to the wound. Obi-Wan saved him the trouble of trying to prise it free gently by yanking the material away himself. He strangled down a grunt of pain and tilted his head up, staring with red-rimmed eyes at the canopy above. “I assume it needs stitches,” he mumbled wearily.

Anakin took a moment, studying the angry cut. He was right, it would definitely need stitches. If only he’d seen the beast before it was mauling his master’s shoulder. It was dead now, whatever it had been, thanks to Anakin’s saber.

“You don’t really need me to answer that one, do you?” he asked wryly.

Obi-Wan sighed. “No, I guess not.” His eyes slid closed before he nodded, once. “There’s a suture kit in my pack, if you’d be so kind.”

A cold flood of realisation washed over Anakin. Obi-Wan wanted him to stitch his shoulder up! He couldn’t, what if he made the damage worse? “I’m not sure that’s a great idea, Master. I’ll bind it as best I can and -”

“Anakin, the longer it’s left, the worse things will become. You can do this. It’s not the first time you’ve had to stitch me up now, is it?”

“No,” Anakin spluttered, “but it’s the first time it’s been so close to a nerve. What if I do it wrong and you can never lift a saber again?”

Flashing him an unimpressed glance, Obi-Wan replied simply. “Very reassuring, Anakin.” He shifted slightly, straightening his posture and biting back a wince. “I have every faith in you, but let’s get this done before I change my mind,” he mumbled.

With sudden resolve, Anakin wasted no time in fishing out the kit and getting to work. His only falter came at the moment he sat poised with the needle. Blood still oozed from the wound, pulsing with Obi-Wan’s heartbeat.

“Anakin?”

Obi-Wan’s voice startled him from his stupor. “Sorry, yes. Um… this might hurt a bit.” With that, Anakin got to work. The first stab of the needle through flesh caused them both to flinch as Obi-Wan bit back a grunt. The next few stitches elicited the same reaction, with Obi-Wan’s fist clenching tighter with every draw of the thread. His eyes were resolutely shut, as if he was willing himself into meditation. A likely pointless exercise, but Anakin understood the desire to be separated from the pain. 

Suddenly a hand snatched at him. “Anakin stop!” Obi-Wan was shaking through his entire frame now, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. A flutter of embarrassment swept across the general’s features before he mumbled, “I’m sorry. I need a moment.” 

Anakin nodded. “Of course. Take your time,” he said, holding the thread as still as possible. He took a moment to study his old master, taking in every detail. The scuffed up armour over once pristine robes, the dark circles under his eyes, the scratches and scrapes that told of his latest skirmish. This war was taking its toll on him. 

“Not exactly the heroic master you remember, I assume?” Obi-Wan mused, catching him staring. A small, half-hearted smile lit up his face for a moment before pain swallowed it like a doused flame. He inhaled deeply, swallowing down a look of anxiety as he eyes the needle once more. “Let’s get this over with,” he huffed. 

With grim determination, Anakin set to work once more, working faster now in hopes of limiting the pain he caused. Granted, the stitches were sloppier for it, but he didn’t want to take a second more than he had to. Obi-Wan looked about ready to keel over by the time he tied off the last of the thread, his face now whiter than the armour he wore. 

“There,” Anakin announced as he pressed a bandage over the wound. “All done. It won’t be as pretty as if I’d had some Bacta to hand, but it’ll keep you in one piece.” He grinned at his handiwork before looking up at his master’s face. The grin faded. “I’ll try to set up comms as soon as I can, but for now let’s get you somewhere you can lie down,” he decided. 

Obi-Wan shook his head. “No, we need to get to the evac site, Anakin. We’ve been over this.”

“I know, Master, but that was before you looked like you were going to pass out where you stand. And anyway, we’re not going to make it much further with the light already fading.” He looked up at the canopy above them. Sure enough, what little light had been poking its way through the thick foliage was now beginning to falter. “I think we passed a cave back there, we can shelter in there for the night and rendezvous at first light.”

Looking thoroughly uncomfortable with the idea, Obi-Wan glanced between his former padawan and the dying light above them. Eventually he dragged out a sigh and held out his uninjured arm. “Fine, help me up.” He bit back another groan of pain as Anakin hauled him to his feet. They began the arduous trek back towards the cave Anakin had mentioned. Obi-Wan shook his head as he trembled in Anakin’s grip. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being clumsily stitched back together in the middle of a jungle, Obi-Wan isn’t feeling too good. Let’s just hope he can keep it together until the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m genuinely surprised people are so invested in this. Hopefully you enjoy this chapter as much as the first. And who knows, maybe I’ll be able to churn out a third before the year is out.

The cave was, in fact, a decent trek back the way they’d come, and it had taken all of Obi-Wan’s strength and focus to even make it that far. As soon as they had staggered inside the mouth of the cave, his legs protested and he found himself on the ground. “Obi-Wan!” Anakin cried, trying in vain to secure his grip even as he slid further towards the ground. He did his best to slow his fall, but with such little warning, there wasn’t much he could do. 

Obi-Wan didn’t have the strength to allay his former padawan’s concern. He bowed his head and panted through the raw pain that had flared up his arm. An injury in his shoulder should not be making him feel this weak. With a shaky hand, he slowly reached up and tugged away the tattered fabric which covered the wound. The skin around it was radiating heat before he even touched it. He sucked in a sharp breath as his thumb grazed over it, his vision blurring with tears. 

“That’s not good,” he breathed, blinking away the tears. 

“What is it?” Anakin asked, shifting from foot to foot and reminding Obi-Wan far too much of his days as a youngling back in the temple. 

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Obi-Wan looked up at the young knight. “It might already be infected,” he explained. It would certainly explain the heat that had been creeping up his body, and the fact that his legs felt more like water than flesh and bone. 

Anakin ran a hand through his unruly hair and frowned. “I knew I shouldn’t have tried to stitch it. The needle wasn’t sterile at all, and I didn’t even clean it -”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan cut across him with a tired smile. “It was a necessary evil, it was bleeding too much to be left untreated. I’ll be fine.” He did his best to convey peace across their bond and soothe the younger man’s fears. Though with pain shooting through his arm sporadically and pulsing behind his eyes, it was somewhat difficult to do. “You were right, there was no way we would’ve made the evac. Right now, we need to rest and we need to eat. We’ll be no good to your men if we don’t.”

For a moment, Anakin looked as though he wanted to argue and Obi-Wan steeled himself for the fight. Then Anakin looked him up and down, eyes lingering on the blood staining his tunic, before he nodded. “You’re right. I’ll get us a fire going and see what I can find us to eat, but let me get you more comfortable first.” He closed the distance between them and held his hand out towards Obi-Wan. When the older jedi nodded, he very carefully helped the older jedi to his feet and together they shuffled further into the cave, away from the elements. Obi-Wan grit his teeth, doing his best to disguise the blinding pain he felt at even the smallest movement. From the concerned glances Anakin kept shooting at him though, he knew his efforts were rather futile. 

Finally, the two jedi reached a spot which Anakin deemed suitable, tucked back around a corner and out of the wind. With Anakin’s help, Obi-Wan lowered himself to the ground and shuffled back until he was leaning against the cool rock. Even that small distance had sapped Obi-Wan of whatever energy he’d had. He sucked in a few ragged breaths, letting his head fall back against the stone. It was a pleasant distraction against the pounding headache that was building there. From this proximity, Anakin’s concern was palpable in the air, smothering Obi-Wan with its intensity. Cracking open one eye, Obi-Wan looked up at his former apprentice. “You know, it’s funny. I don’t think I ever got around to teaching you to create fire with only your mind.” 

At his jibe, Anakin jolted back to life from where he had been stood, staring down at him. “Sorry Master, I just ‒ I, nevermind… I’ll get to it.” He turned back towards the mouth of the cave. Obi-Wan could feel his anxiety at leaving him here, unprotected and already injured. 

“Anakin, I’ll be fine. We’re out of the elements and out of sight back here. Now go get some firewood before the light completely deserts us.”

Flashing him an approximation of his usual debonair grin, Anakin headed back out into the thick jungle. Obi-Wan waited until he was sure he was out of reach before finally letting his walls down. Pain crashed over him like a wave, pulling a soft groan from his throat as he pressed a hand to his injured shoulder. Heat radiated from it still, and even the light pressure of his hand sent nausea spiralling in his stomach. But with Anakin gone, he needed to take a look at it for himself. 

Carefully, he inched the collar of his tunic down until he could see the mess of bloody bandages that covered the wound. He took a moment to steel his nerves before peeling away the corner of the bandage. 

It didn’t look good. 

The ragged edges of the wound were an angry red, bright and sickly. Obi-Wan was sure that if he looked closer he would see more signs of infection, but he’d already seen enough. His stomach flipped. He threw his head back and clenched his jaw tight as a wave of nausea rolled over him once more. “Blast,” he muttered to himself, squeezing his eyes closed. There would be no getting out of Medical with a wound like that. 

He ran a shaky hand over his face, and suddenly remembered the scratches there as they flared to life. He hissed, flinching backward. If he had been more inclined towards vanity, he would have worried whether these scratches would scar. Tentatively, he traced a scratch beneath his right eye. Only a few inches higher and he would have matched Anakin, he mused. Speaking of his former apprentice, Obi-Wan wondered how far from the cave Anakin had dared to venture. He doubted it would be far, he was as protective of Obi-Wan as Obi-Wan was of him. 

Letting his hand drop from his face, Obi-Wan looked around the little sanctuary they had found. Honestly there wasn’t much to see, but he had to keep himself entertained somehow. To those who didn’t know him, it would seem that Master Kenobi had endless patience, but those who truly knew him were well aware of Obi-Wan’s inability to sit still.

He huffed an exasperated sigh as he came to the end of his perusal. Boredom was setting in and Obi-Wan fought the urge to fidget. He should probably try to meditate, he thought, remembering his days of wrangling Anakin to do the same. Taking a steadying breath, he closed his eyes and did his best to clear his mind, letting the force wash over him. 

Surrounded by the whispering peace of the force, the pain in his shoulder felt distant, muted. It was pleasant and honestly, Obi-Wan thought he could get quite used to it. 

“-ster? Hey! Obi-Wan!”

Like a dam bursting, Obi-Wan was thrown back into the present. The pain which had been so far away now slammed into him, forcing the breath from his lungs. He snapped his eyes open to see Anakin kneeling in front of him, a hand curled around his uninjured arm. 

“Thank the force,” Anakin breathed, sitting back on his heels. “You scared me to death then, old man.”

Obi-Wan mustered the energy to frown at the teasing moniker. “I was meditating, I thought it might help the healing process,” he explained. 

Running a hand through his hair, Anakin shook his head. “Or send you into a coma.” He deflated slightly as he looked Obi-Wan up and down. Worry creased his brow as his eyes softened. “How are you holding up, Master?” he asked quietly. 

“I’ve had worse days,” Obi-Wan quipped, trying for his usual levity. Though to be perfectly honest, he felt dreadful. His shoulder now blazed with sickly heat, radiating pain like cracks along his bones and his hand was beginning to feel worryingly numb. Pouring his concentration into it, he tried to curl his hand into a fist. Watching the sorry twitch of his fingers did nothing to dampen the panic bubbling in his chest. And then there was the blasted chill that had settled over him. Anakin had done his best to move him out of the path of the wind, but still he could feel its icy tendrils whispering up his spine. 

A flicker of annoyance danced across his mind, though it had not been his own. He knew Anakin didn’t believe him in the slightest. With a ragged sigh, he rested his head back against the rock wall. “It hurts,” he admitted at length. “I was mauled by some creature and then stitched up without any anaesthetic. Of course it hurts.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Anakin’s voice was small and full of guilt in the gloom of the cave. Obi-Wan cringed at the sound and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. You did the best you could given the circumstances. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

There was a long pause before Obi-Wan dared to look up. Anakin was looking at him with that curious gaze again, as he had out in the jungle. If Obi-Wan had to guess, he was probably seeing his old master in reality for the first time. There was nothing of the famed Jedi master about him now, nothing of the esteemed general about this beaten, sorry old man before him. 

“You’re not that old yet, Master,” Anakin murmured, a careful smile playing on his lips. Obi-Wan realised that his shields were still down, that Anakin had heard his self-pitying. Thankfully, Anakin said no more on the matter, instead turning his attention to building a fire. “I managed to get through to Rex briefly while I was outside,” he said instead. “The men are fine, all accounted for apart from us. He said they’ve got men trying to pinpoint our location from my comms, but the reception is spotty at best. All we can do now is rest and make sure we’re ready for them when they find us.”

By now, the light had faded almost completely within the cave. Thankfully Anakin wasted no time in getting the fire going. Though it did little to stave off the chill that shrouded Obi-Wan, it did give him something other than the pain to focus on. He stared into the flames while Anakin did his best to keep a conversation going and nudge him into eating. He managed barely a few mouthfuls of the ration bar that was thrust into his responsive hand before exhaustion finally claimed him. 

For his part, Anakin finally stopped his incessant chatter, letting the animated (if one-sided) conversation he’d been having die. He let out a shaky breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. The shadows leaping across the walls did nothing to help the deathly pallor of Obi-Wan’s face, nor the deep bruises beneath his eyes. Anakin shuffled over to sit beside his former master, ignoring the heat that radiated from him. He gently took the ration bar from Obi-Wan’s hand, stuffing it into his pocket, and leaned against his side. He sat there, still and quiet, keeping sentry over the injured man throughout the night and praying to whatever gods were listening to keep him alive until the morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> I might add more to this later if the mood takes me... Obi-Wan does seem to be my muse at the minute. But then again I might not, so maybe don’t hold your breath. But feel free to persuade me otherwise.


End file.
